


better left unsaid

by halophyle



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Asphyxiation, Despair Fever, M/M, PWP without Porn, Sexual Assault, Somnophilia, Unresolved Romantic Tension, canon compliant yet canon divergent, post chapter 3/4, tfw you can't fuck away feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 05:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halophyle/pseuds/halophyle
Summary: "Lies pile up, Hinata," Komaeda whispers in a sultry voice as he traces lazy patters on the brown-haired boy’s chest. "They grow and grow until you find yourself drowning in them.""I swear, I didn’t know!" he rasps out while Komaeda smiles, the quirk of his chapped lips unsettling as always. His eyes have long since lost the warmth that Hinata remembers - there’s only hatred left behind."And here I was, foolish enough to actually believe you."-It starts with a broken lock and ends with disappointment.





	better left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> 2013 sure was wild huh

It’s fortunate for Nagito Komaeda that Hajime Hinata is a heavy sleeper.

 

It doesn’t take too long for Komaeda to finally make up his mind to go and see the boy that night. He waits until the other kids are soundly asleep in their own cottages and sneaks out of his makeshift house the moment the clock strikes 3:10 am.

 

He knows that Hinata won't let him in - after all, he _is_ about to interrupt the other's valued sleep with his disturbing presence - but tonight, Komaeda feels… he feels that this can actually happen. It's an indescribable feeling of blinding confidence, the one that comes in short bursts and the one that he only gets every once in a while, so Komaeda decides to follow through with it. He'd felt this emotion plenty of times before, a sensation which made his stomach clench and fingers curl in a pleasant way; for example whenever he'd won a lottery, aced a particularly-hard test that he didn't study for or got asked out by a cute girl that every guy in his class had had the hots for.

 

All of these past events, however, had ended in bitter failures - bad luck had often stuck out its foot for Komaeda to trip over, but perhaps this time it'd go differently. Maybe, just maybe, if Hinata was willing to hear him out, then it would all turn out to be okay. Just seeing his face would be enough.

 

Once Komaede reaches the boy’s assigned cottage, he hesitates at its doorstep. His fingers hover in the air, curled into a loose fist and ready to knock on Hinata’s door. Before he can fully register what he’s doing, Komaeda lets those ghostly-pale digits wrap around the chilly door handle, slowly pushing it downwards. Much to his surprise, the metal lock gives in with a silent clicks as it moves out of its assigned place, and with a dull creak, the door opens up.

 

He thinks about how _careless_ Hinata is, especially in _their situation -_  about how anyone could easily barge in at a moment's notice to _kill him_. However, his countless buzzing thoughts are effectively wiped away the moment Komaeda unabashedly and very much unceremoniously steps inside Hinata's room, only to be greeted by blinding darkness - no matter, in this case, it's welcome. He’s lucky. He’s so damn _lucky_ that he'd jump up and down if he didn't have to worry about waking up the sole occupant of the room, soundly asleep on the spacious bed, chest rising up and down with every even breath.

 

Relaxed like that, Hinata looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Komaeda revels in the beauty of that handsome face and its angular features - they're no longer twisted by those deep frowns that are usually directed Komaeda's way. He decides that this peaceful look suits Hinata so much more and hesitantly takes a seat at the edge of the bed as to not wake the other.

 

Komaeda does not deserve to be here, he's aware of that much. He shouldn’t have gone here in the first place, but now that he’s here, he cannot find it in himself to leave. It’s his own personal and selfish desire. He’s _sick_ , he’s disgusting for doing this to someone who is asleep, a Super-High school-Level nonetheless, when in comparison Komaeda’s nothing but a useless worm crawling at the feet of the rest.

 

Hinata twitches when Komaeda’s cold fingertips gently trace his sharp jaw and the seated boy freezes when Hinata shifts, mumbling something incoherent. Perhaps he has miscalculated. What if Hinata wakes up, only to find Komaeda's undesirable presence lurking in the shadows, doing these unspeakable things to him, detestable fingers touching him without permission? Komaeda reluctantly retracts his fingers and gnaws at his lower lip as fear encases his heart in a layer of icy hesitation. He even wishes for Hinata to just roll on his side and go back to sleeping like a log. He fears rejection almost as much as he wants to reach out and continue where he left off, if not more.

 

It’s unfair, it really is unfair, Komaeda thinks, when Hinata’s shirt rides up to his navel, exposing a strip of a surprisingly toned stomach. Komaeda lets his gaze drift down the brown-haired teen’s torso. He commits the hue of Hinata’s skin to memory. There's something about the dip of his navel and hips and it’s enough to make Komaeda lose composure.

 

He respects Hinata, he respects all of his fellow students, even though he's undeserving to be one of them. Komaeda respects their wishes, wants and needs; they will always come first before Komaeda’s own, but Komaeda… he is willing to admit that he is also  _selfish_ , possessive at times. That possessiveness is quick to devour any lingering hesitance as he braces his arms, palms placed next to Hinata’s head. He takes one last lingering look at that defenseless face, slightly turned right, lips parted. The moonlight that comes through the wide window makes Hinata even more desirable and when he thinks that, something breaks within the white-haired boy.

 

Hinata’s lips are soft and sleep-warmed, very much so. Komaeda has always thought that they'd be kissable and he hardly ever notices _those things_ about other people, but when it comes to Hinata, he tries to read him like his favorite book. He always notices the drop in Hinata’s mood whenever he approaches, notices the downturn of his lips, the way his eyebrows slant into a wary frown whenever Komaeda tries to interact with him, the way his voice gets laced with cold notes when he does reply, as if Hinata’s forcing himself to talk to Komaeda in the first place. However, once Hinata thinks that no one is looking… He usually looks concerned, upset even. Probably because of their fate. He also tends to get this sad look in his whenever he thinks that Komaeda isn't looking, as though he is upset that he cannot figure the white-haired menace out, that he can’t reach out to him. That he can’t, _and doesn't want to_ , to understand.

 

As much as Komaeda appreciates the sentiment, even though he hardly deserves it - he's never deserved any kind of concern to begin with, nor does he think that it's a necessary attribute in this awful hell island - he simply smiles that unsettling smile, the one that usually lets him slip out of uncomfortable situations, and tries to leave Hinata behind. Only for a moment or two at most, because he physically cannot stay away for too long. Hinata is just too damn interesting and enticing, his reactions are entertaining to say the least, and even though Komaeda thinks that’s he’s got Hinata all figured out, he still wants to know just what is it that makes them so _different_ , besides the differences in bottomless talent, that is.

 

If he had to look for an appropriate comparison, the phrase ‘two sides of the same coin’ would pop into his mind to fit their dynamic rather nicely. Of course, he couldn’t even dream of being on the same level as Hinata. And this is where Komaeda stops thinking, as his mind clouds with hazy thoughts because Hinata is warm to the touch and his senses are already filling with his fresh scent.

 

He really is the lowest of the low.

 

He’s careful with his hands, too afraid to tighten his grip on Hinata’s bony hip. His touches are fleeting, barely ghosting, just as it's supposed to be. The boy’s body is pliant under his wandering dry palms and Komaeda feels his head clouding even further, a familiar carnal desire washing over him. He feels ashamed of the sudden surge of arousal taking over him, but he’s not surprised, nothing surprises him anymore. This is such a fucked up situation, it really is, but he can no longer control his sick urges, he knows better than that. The bed creaks in protest when Komaeda’s knees sink into the mattress and his clothes rustle against the sheets whenever he moves.

 

The brunet’s body shifts again. Komaeda feels him shiver, exhale against his lips, and when he thinks that he's finally slipped up in the most idiotic way possible and that his luck has finally abandoned him, Hinata’s lips press back and, oh _shit, was he still asleep?_

Komaeda slowly opens his eyes, too afraid of the sight that’s definitely going to greet him - silent horror shining in hazel eyes. However, he sees no such thing. He lifts himself up and Hinata groans in protest, one of his hands unconsciously gripping at the dark green material of his parka, seeking warmth and pulling _down_.

 

It confuses Komaeda. He’s not sure what to make of this, but when he sends one last look Hinata’s way, the boy’s eyes are definitely closed and his breath is already evening out as he drifts out of consciousness. It finally clicks that Hinata isn't doing this of his own free will. Perhaps he’s dreaming of something dirty or he’s just a heavy sleeper and it takes him a while to fully come to it and notice his surroundings.

 

It doesn't fail to make Komaeda’s heart pump faster. Excitement flows in his veins. Maybe he _likes_ living on the edge or maybe he’s just that fucked up.

 

Maybe it’s both, but he goes for the latter.

 

Hinata murmurs something against the side of his neck and sometimes latches his fingers onto his fraying sleeve, but his eyes are still shut. Komaeda is not sure whether he’s faking it or not, but he decides to not take any risks and keep his voice down. Their disgusting little rendezvous ends in a minute, probably because Komaeda is too excited to stop and too wiling to get the hell out. Hinata’s body heats - it’s hot, too damn hot, too damn dangerous. It makes his heart hammer against his ribcage whenever Komaeda lips at the exposed skin right below the hollow of Hinata’s collarbones and caresses the boy’s flat stomach, feeling the muscles quiver from the feather-light brush of his fingertips.

 

Komaeda feels the skin of his lower lip breaking from the constant pressure that he's been putting on it and his senses fill with the taste of blood. Usually, it would make him sick, but tonight everything keeps working in opposites. Hinata’s hand moves to his back, his fingertips trace Komaeda’s spine before it uselessly flops back on the sheets. The brown-haired boy trashes about, his knees bend and he slides lower. His cursed shirt keeps riding up and Komaeda would touch him, he really would, but his hands are too preoccupied with other things. Komaeda bites onto his knuckles with all he’s got and it doesn’t take long until they're bruised too. He has to place his palm on his mouth afraid of vocal profanities spilling out, of the shameful noises boiling in the back of his throat.

 

"Fuck, Hinata-kun, Hinata - "

 

The said boy makes that erotic noise yet again and that makes Komaeda completely lose it. He comes against Hinata's leg, his shame staining that beautiful stomach. Muffling a filthy moan, he can barely hold himself up.

 

It doesn’t take long for guilt to settle in the pit of his stomach. He feels like throwing up - he’s vile, he’s gross. He just… did something unimaginable.

 

But the worst thing is that he’s not sorry. Not in the slightest. He’s guilty, but once he carefully thinks about it, Komaeda realizes that he would've done it either way. If not now, then the day after that, and then the one after until someone inevitably killed him.

 

His hand drips pearly white strings of cum and the red hickey located on Hinata’s collarbone shines bright due to the remains of spit - a vital slip up. Even as sleepy as he is, Hinata is bound to figure out that this was no mere dream or fantasy. Komaeda decides to sneak one last look at the sleeping boy’s face, but instead, is met by a pair of hazel eyes. The eyelids appear to be droopy and heavy with sleep, soundly killing the possible glare, but this time, Komaeda can see underlying confusion - one that he's never seen before. A silent inquiry.

 

That docile stare makes him even guiltier - Hinata is supposed to throw a fit of massive proportions instead of looking at him like a sedated doe caught in the headlights. To punch him in the jaw, shake him, choke him until his vision turned hazy, until he felt the bony fingers of the grim reaper -

 

“This is all a dream.” Komaeda smiles, but it lacks any mirth, the corners of his lips painfully upturned. Hinata blinks once, twice and his eyelids drift shut, but something within Komaeda tells him that Hinata is now awake or at least aware of his surroundings.

 

Hinata… doesn’t kill him. Instead, he just lies there, completely motionless, and tries his best to regulate his breathing pattern. To fade out of consciousness.

 

It’s a shame. A disappointment, really.

 

Komaeda wipes away the cooling sweat that's gathered on his forehead, fixes his appearance and leaves, not bothering to look back.

 

Hinata should really get his lock fixed.

 

* * *

 

Hinata does not confront him about it, in fact, he acts as though this little rendezvous has never happened to begin with, but Komaeda knows better. He can see it in those sharp eyes whenever their gazes meet, can feel the waves of disgust tinged with confusion.

 

It kind of stings. A little.

 

Then again, it’s better for Komaeda if Hinata thinks of this as one weird dream.

 

* * *

 

Even when the Despair Fever kicks in, Komaeda is still fully aware as to who and what he is, but his speech pattern suffers greatly and his mind isn’t as lucid as usual, thus making it even harder to even think. It annoys him greatly because he cannot properly observe that pathetic woman who calls herself a Super-High school-Level Nurse. It’s only a matter of time before she slips up, and when she does, he'll be there to send her off to her death.

 

If there was one thing that he couldn't forgive, it was despair taking root in this hope-filled environment.

 

He’s burning up and he thinks that he’s dying, really actually _dying_ , but once they ask him how he’s feeling, Komaeda says complete nonsense that even he doesn't catch.

 

“Ah. I’m alone with Hinata-kun.”

 

Isn’t this amazing? If he was feeling just a little bit better, he'd give him a warm welcome for taking the time of his day to check up on him, when he could (and should be) visiting other Super-High school-Levels. It’s far more than Komaeda deserves.

 

“I don’t like being with you. I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

 

_Stay stay stay. Stay. Please? I want to see you. I want you here. I **need you** here._

 

And just like that, he’s gone.

 

Why is it that his words never reached him, his feelings never got through? Why is it that he’s being brushed off? Komaeda just wants to _help_ ; he wants to make this world shine bright with hope, hope so radiant that it would be enough to conquer all of the despair out there. Right now, he needs Hinata to fill him with hope, reassure him that he can get better. He wants to get up on his feet just to be by his side, he wants…

 

There are a lot of things that he _wants_ , but some things are better left unsaid.

 

* * *

 

 

“Go away, you’re disgusting! I don’t want you here, I don’t, I don’t,” Komaeda trails off weakly and his body feels like it's ripping itself up. His fever keeps rising and Komaeda thinks that maybe he won’t make it through the night. He’ll die a dog's death and no one will care. His fever twists his words, his thoughts, and he thinks that if he’s to leave, it'd be a _disgrace_. He wants to stay here until he can serve his purpose, only to die by one of _their_ hands - Komaeda, at least, wants to say a proper goodbye to Hinata. So he keeps holding onto Hinata’s clammy hand with the final remains of his measly strength. His vision is blurry around the edges as it is and sometimes he blacks out, but Hinata’s wrist keeps him steady. He’s _real_ , he’s here, and Komaeda does not want him to leave.

 

Thankfully, Hinata has him all figured out a few seconds later. Komaeda would expect nothing less from such a bright human being, yet Hinata still refuses to make a move. It’s Komaeda’s words that confuse him, the shaking grip on his wrist that keeps getting weaker and weaker with every second.

 

It was probably a mistake to check on him a second time.

 

“Don’t come any closer. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I'm too good for someone like you… please… leave already.”

 

Hinata sits down on the edge of the hospital bed, the bed springs creak in protest as Komaeda pushes him on the bed and Hinata does not resist, _he doesn’t._

 

It’s quiet. Komaeda is settled on his thighs, palms propped against the teen’s toned torso as he shakes like he’s been kicked out in the middle of a snowstorm, breath uneven.

 

“You should get some rest.” Hinata’s voice is carefully neutral when it reaches Komaeda's ears. The latter looks down only to find the other staring, eyes emotionless.

 

Just what's it gonna take to get his feelings across?

 

“I feel wonderful, I don’t need rest.” Komaeda squeezes out and lowers himself on top of the boy so that they're face to face. “Least of all… I don’t need you.”

 

Hinata’s confusion is apparent once again. When Komaeda feels Hinata's strong arms moving to wrap around his bony shoulders in order to _push him away_ , he dives down and clumsily kisses him. He can hardly call it a kiss, because it’s more akin to Komaeda’s treacherous tongue fucking Hinata’s mouth. It’s messy and sloppy, filled with drool and teeth, but Komaeda can’t make it any better in this weakened state. How low. He's sick, this disease has him fucked up and now he's putting Hinata in danger with his slobbering. Yet, his thoughts are far away, too far away for him to actually care about the Despair Fever's possible contagiousness.

 

The brown-haired teen lies there motionlessly while Komaeda, with much difficulty, recalls the last time this has happened. He’s angered and annoyed, because he wants Hinata to at least acknowledge this much, he wants some level of acceptance, acknowledgment. Normally, he would never think those wishful things, but right now, Komaeda’s not in the right state of mind, so he thinks it to be rightfully justified, very much so.

 

If he stays alive, then he can at least pretend, he can come up with excuses and laugh it all away.

 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing, K-Komaeda!” the teen below him finally regains some sense and roughly turns his head to the side, but ends up regretting it once the sick one traces a wet line down the side of his neck with his tongue. Hinata tenses but doesn't throw him off, and as out of it as he is, Komaeda notices the lovely blush dyeing his cheekbones.

 

“Y-Yes, I do.” Komaeda groans and presses his forehead against Hinata’s shoulder. He feels like an icicle compared to him and that cannot possibly be good. “I always ask for favors whenever I'm bothered, so can you please just stop me already?”

 

“Damn, it’s difficult to talk to you like this.”

 

Komaeda forces out a small wheezy laugh. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it's not. Your presence is unwelcome, you always annoy me. Why would I want you to touch me? Why would I want you to…” he’s too dizzy to finish that last thought and Hinata moves his hips a little, most likely in an attempt to sit up and run away, but it gets a different reaction from the sick teen altogether as he lets out a needy moan. Hinata freezes up again and Komaeda can’t have that, he’s already come this far, he needs to get his feelings through, needs to make Hinata understand just how much he favors him. He needs Hinata to hear him out just this once.

 

“Wh-what are you - “

 

“I’m not going to do anything. You’re not as wonderful as you think you may be. How undesirable. Disgusting.” Komaeda grinds his hips down and the pleasure is far too much, he needs to get a move on before he inevitably collapses. “I don’t… understand why others like you. What’s there to like? You’re … you’re everything but …”

 

It only then clicks that words aren’t doing him any favors, so instead, Komaeda tries to convey it with actions. Hinata melts under his touch - maybe he's truly given in, but that’s doubtful. They're teenagers after all. Let’s just say that for them, it's a way of forgetting the situation that they’re stuck in. They can forget the titles (Komaeda does not whereas Hinata couldn’t care less) the murders, the concept of hope and despair.

 

Hinata’s shirt and tie are tossed to some unknown corner. Komaeda brings Hinata’s hands towards the tie of his hospital robe and instructs him to not touch, oh god, just please don’t do this because he hates it, he does not want it—

 

Hinata’s palms are on his chest in an attempt to take the robe away while Komaeda digs his blunt nails into the teen’s hips, enjoying the breathy gasps that escape his mouth followed by sharp intakes of air. He loves how Hinata’s palms feel against his heated skin, and with trembling hands, Komaeda guides them where he wants them the most - his chest, stomach. Hinata gives in to his wishes, commands. Komaeda whines when Hinata’s fingertips brush over that sensitive spot right above his navel and he slumps forward, muttering something along the lines of ‘not there’ and ‘I hate it when you touch me, stop.’

 

It would be perfect if Hinata wasn’t so damn reluctant about everything, if his movements weren’t so fucking strained. It would be perfect if he finally got rough with him, just like Komaeda deserves for being a needy little trash.

 

“You’re so vile for wanting to take advantage for me. The Hinata-kun I know would never do this. Impostor. “ Komaeda sighs and bites at the same spot where he'd left a hickey, sucking on the tender skin there and enjoying the generous sounds that Hinata makes for him only, just the way it’s supposed to be. He test the waters and traces his tongue down the firm abdominal muscles of his stomach. Hinata keeps getting more vocal, more louder, so Komaeda has to press his wet palm against Hinata's lips in order to warn him. “I want you to scream out for me, alright?” Hinata only shivers once he utters that sentence. “The ever-lovely impostor Tsumiki won’t hear you, she’s too far away.” His wild gaze shifts to the door as he slowly pulls his hand from Hinata’s moist mouth. The latter takes in a few deep breaths to calm down, but he doesn’t succeed when Komaeda’s fingers start fervently unbuttoning his pants and the sick teen tugs them down just enough. He’s staring so Hinata has to close his eyes because this is far too embarrassing, he’s taking advantage of a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, this is so wrong, but at the same time _so right,_ _especially_ when Komaeda's thin spider-like fingers wrap around Hinata's half-hard length, grip just a little too loose.

 

The white-haired teen _hates_ this. He despises the state that he’s currently in because he cannot focus long enough to examine the emotions flashing by on Hinata’s beautiful face, it feels as though all of this is just a fever dream and he’s not actually engaging into any of this. It's like none of this is even real to begin with, this hospital room and this Hinata are fake, all of this is just some sort of hallucination caused by the Despair Fever.

 

Silently, Hinata thrusts his hips upwards. Komaeda gets the message and tightens his grip just enough, tries his best to get a good look at those hazy eyes. His Hinata-kun, so noble, so reluctant, but still so _aroused_ that it’s almost filthy. Would he show this face to anyone?

 

It makes his brain short circuit.

 

He attacks Hinata’s mouth with his own, their teeth click together due to the force behind it. Komaeda shoves his tongue down Hinata's throat, because no, he does not want to be gentle, he’s too pissed off for that. He can barely breathe, he almost loses the loose grip that he has on his consciousness, but he can’t risk it, not yet. He lets Hinata earnestly fuck into his fist, wants him to do it because who else can do it better than Komaeda? He wants to be the only one able to do this.

 

Komaeda can now freely admit it, at this very moment, that’s he’s a selfish bastard who would much rather do this than gather enough courage to tell Hinata that…

 

What exactly?

 

That he wants to be close to him? That he loves… he _loves_ his hope from the very bottom of his heart? That Hinata’s the first person who's ever tried to understand him and that even after Komaeda was forced to put up all of those barriers around himself, he still never gave up?

 

Hinata’s warm. His hope warms Komaeda’s useless existence, and maybe, he actually does love him in an entirely different way than he loves the other hope-bearers out here. Maybe his manic love has grown just a little too strong and has actually transcended the bounds of mere like, friendship, or whatever it is that you might want to call the fragile thing that has developed between them during the first few days that they've spent on this island.

 

Komaeda’s never known love, and if this is love, then…

 

Hinata’s grip is harsh on his bony hips, likely to leave behind fingertip-shaped bruises, while Komaeda moves against him so lazily that it's almost languid. Hinata keeps making those cute erotic sounds, his breath is ragged, one hand still clasped over his mouth, two of Komaeda's slim fingers pressing down on his tongue, exploring the wet cavern. Hinata fills him up in a way that he's somehow started _needing_ , perhaps he's needed this, this connection, from the very start, and it makes Komaeda's vision clear just a little.

 

“Feels all… gross inside of me,” he emphasizes his words with a lazy drop of his hips and Hinata moans behind that palm of his, gagging slightly when the fingers go too deep. ”How disgusting. The face you’re making… it’s absolutely gross.” Komaeda smiles as he takes Hinata’s hand into his own, letting the restrained noises spill out. He gasps when Hinata's cock roughly brushes against the sensitive spot located under his pre-cum leaking head. It makes his already jelly-like arms tremble even more and his thighs tense. “Don’t show it to me ever again. I hate it.” Komaeda squeezes out, brings the brunet’s palm to his own face and leans into the touch. He watches him closely, studies the way his eyebrows crease, the way his lips part and the way his eyelids drop slightly. “I hate it so much.” Komaeda grazes his teeth over the inside of Hinata’s wrist and bites tenderly, reveling in the hiss of most definitely not pain that reaches his ears. “I hate you.” He whispers and kisses where the boy’s blue veins are the most visible. He lets his mouth rest there, feel the rabbitting of his pulse, unnaturally fast.  

 

Oh. He said it.

 

And it came out the opposite way.

 

Hinata’s eyes widen and Komaeda decides that now would be a good time to distract him, so he gathers what little strength he has left and quickens the pace, bringing his hips down on Hinata’s, movement fast and unforgiving, intent on milking him completely. Grinding against Hinata even faster, now slick with sickness and arousal sweat, feels fucking amazing. Hinata swallows the treat, thoughts lost somewhere else entirely, and his hands shoot out to hold Komaeda up so that he doesn’t fall forward. With a hiss, Komaeda scratches at that wide chest until he leaves behind red marks, and somehow manages to keep himself steady with the help of those arms.

 

Hmm. Maybe he really does love him.

 

“I hate you, _I hate you so much_ , fuck - stop, stop, please.”

 

“Komaeda…! S-shit, I’m going to…”

 

The orgasm doesn't bring any kind of actual fulfillment. Before he can say anything, though, Komaeda uselessly collapses onto Hinata's chest and passes out.

 

* * *

 

_"Is it because you never had anyone to love? You poor thing, my heart goes out for you."_

 

The face that _that woman_ had made after uttering such nonsense, is still deeply etched into Komaeda's mind, even after she had been flown off into space and out of this island once and for all. Her ugly voice echoes loud and clear in his ears.

 

He can’t let her get under his skin, because this is exactly what she wants, this is what despair does.

 

He does not sleep well.

 

How could a simple emotion such as love be more powerful than hope? But wasn’t he already in love with hope? After all, it was his devoted love for hope that made him… just a little bit different from the rest.

 

Love makes you do unimaginable things. Wasn’t he ready to die for the sake of love, too? Didn’t that make him the same as that Tsumiki?

 

_"I hate you so much.”_

 

I love you so much?

 

He was falling for Hinata, quite hard too, or maybe he had loved him from the very start. He didn't have his school memories, and if there was even a slightest chance that he'd been in the same class as the other boy, perhaps this tepid plaguing feeling was surfacing from way before that time when Komaeda had allegedly first laid his eyes upon Hinata's unconscious form lying on the beach. Could it be that that time wasn’t the first time they'd met? If so, everything was beyond Komaeda's control.

 

The Despair Fever had come and passed just as suddenly as it had struck and it probably wasn’t such a bad thing, in the way that he'd much rather die than outright confess his developing feelings to Hinata. If he'd done that while aware of himself, Hinata would've surely rejected him on the spot. Now, his bad luck is left at a stand-still, alongside their feelings. A dead end. If Hinata had returned his feelings, then surely, surely...

 

In the end, he guesses, it's far better to keep quiet than to put the ones close to you into mortal danger. He’s not _cruel_ enough to tell Hinata that he loves him, only for him to die shortly after.

 

* * *

 

 

Komaeda finds out the truth.

 

Hinata… he’s a liar. He’s just like him - a useless good-for-nothing, unworthy to be on this island in the first place, unworthy of being called a symbol of hope. Amnesia? Yeah, right. He's willing to bet that he’s known it all along and that he was just playing - yeah, that’s right, he was simply playing the part, just like Komaeda. A wild card, a wrench in the works. What if Hinata had remembered his past mid-way through, though, and then decided to keep quiet? To keep them all in the dark? Komaeda… he _believed_ him.

 

He let himself get fooled by a pretty little lie. Just where was his rational thinking? He'd never placed his trust in Hinata - Komaeda never did that in fear of it getting broken and betrayed - but he'd definitely put all of his hope in him. Komaeda was willing to become a _stepping stone_ for this vile person who'd loved Hope’s Peak enough to worm his way in.

 

It’s not talent, just a stupid coincidence and some dumb luck that wasn’t even his to begin with. That decision wasn’t for Hinata to make.

 

He cannot believe himself - he was so desperate to please that nobody and this is what he gets in return? How unpleasant. Hinata is doesn't deserve to walk on the same ground as he does. He’ll teach that traitor a lesson, one that'll forever stick in his memory until Komaeda mercifully decides to end everything, until all of this crumbles to the ground.

 

“You know what amazes me? That you've managed to survive for this long. That you've managed to actually solve some of the mysteries and match up to the rest of the talented people here. To be honest, I'm jealous.” Komaeda whispers into the shell of his ear and Hinata snarls like a wild animal. He struggles against him, but this time, Komaeda won’t let him get away. He presses his weight on Hinata’s crossed arms and the brunet lets out a pained exhale. Who cares about him? “Stop struggling, why don’t you.” Komaeda hisses, bending the Hinata's arms even further. “Ah. Where was I...? Oh. I am amazed that you have managed to develop so many precious bonds when you’re not worth to approach these people. You’re the same as me. They should've brushed you away, the same as they do so with me, so I wonder… What makes you so different when we are all but the two sides of the same coin. “

 

Hinata has the nerve to let out a pained laugh. It lacks mirth, but it's a laugh nonetheless. “Oh, why don’t you cry me a river - shit!”

 

“I don’t like your tone, Hinata,” Komaeda growls, harshly shoving Hinata’s face into the mattress, finally letting go of his arms. The brown-haired teen breathes heavily, the sheets cutting off his air supply and he tries to struggle again, but to no avail. A thin, small smile stretches on Komaeda’s lips at the pathetic sight. “Or no, don’t mind me. Keep on struggling, I’ll make sure you stay put. I’ll break off those horns of yours, you impertinent little fool.”

 

“Bastard…” Hinata groans, heatedly struggling against the firm grasp that Komaeda has on the back of his head, short nails digging into his scalp. Hinata tries his best to throw off the teen who is comfortably seated on his lower back. “Let go of me.”

 

“Don’t order me around. In fact, keep your filthy mouth shut before I shut it for you. You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?” Komaeda laughs delightfully, lifting the hem of Hinata’s shirt, making sure to hurt him in one way or another in the process. “Hey, isn’t this great? You were always the one ignoring me along with the rest and now both of us know who you really are. Now you can find out what it feels like to be in my place.” Komaeda chirps with unsettling, over the top cheerfulness lacing his velvet voice and Hinata shudders when that palm traces his spine. He struggles again. “Shh, calm down. This isn’t some rodeo. Hmm… then again, you are a bit of an animal, aren’t you? I said _get down_.” Komaeda’s voice develops a hard edge when Hinata puts all of his strength into his arms and actually manages to raise himself up, just enough to make Komaeda slide further down his back. Komaeda swiftly repositions himself so that his knee digs into the small of Hinata’s back and the boy hits the mattress again. “Can’t you just give up? Is it necessary for you to play the victim here?”

 

“Just how conceited are you? Just because I'm average, what right does it give you to - “

 

“ _Shut up_.” Komaeda shakes with anger and Hinata glares at him in defiance, neck bent at a very uncomfortable angle. It would be so easy to snap it in half. “Stubborn fool. Keep that insolence in check. What do you know about me? What right do you have to lie to me, lie to all of us? You act like you’re someone big, but you’re not. “

 

“Aren’t you the same?” Hinata spits it out like it is something vile and the look in his eye darkens. Despite the fact that Hinata no longer means much to him, he is no longer the center of his attention; it doesn’t mean that his words no longer reach Komaeda. A part of him, the sentimental one, still hurts. “You barge in uninvited and confuse the living hell out of everyone. You want to play the big hero who's brought hope to those around him but you keep failing—“

Oh, he would definitely hit him if they weren’t in this rather unfortunate position. He’d love to hear bones cracking, but he won’t stoop down to that level, not yet. He’s still better than that, as useless as he is. Komaeda calms himself until he’s sure that his voice doesn't shake and lowers himself so that he can see Hinata clearly. “Do you want to know what made me this way?” he murmurs it so silently to the point the brunet has to strain his ears to hear it but makes no sound of acknowledgement.

 

“My experience made me like this. Love made me like this, Hinata-kun.” He stresses the ‘-kun’ and smirks to mock the glaring teen. “Hope is absolutely the strongest force in this world, it makes us who we are, and it kills all of the despair. I am in love with hope. I was in love with your hope…” It hurts to say this, it really does and the gleam of Hinata’s eyes makes it so much worse, but instead, it only makes his anger boil even stronger. “But then I find out that you're not even capable of giving me that much! And here I was, thinking that maybe, after all this time, I was finally ready to open my heart to one person - “ he cannot stop himself anymore, he’s so bitter that it physically hurts and Komaeda’s not sure how he’s not crying, but he has forgotten what truly crying means a long time ago. His voice trembles as Hinata lays there motionlessly, like a poor imitation of some rag doll. That’s what he is. A doll, nothing more. Just a pretty lie with no purpose whatsoever.

 

“Why didn’t you - “ Hinata starts, after a few minutes of deafening silence.

 

“Why I didn’t say anything, you ask? Oh, that’s easy. It’s because I am a Super-High school-Level Good Luck and as useless as this talent of mine is, it’s far more than you could ever boast about. I thought that I was undeserving, but now I realize just how foolish it sounds. I mean, it’s not like I've lost anything because of my hesitance, now did I?” he sneers. “Back then, I wondered… will Hinata-kun ever accept me as his equal? Why is it that he never hears me out, why does he never listen to me? Why doesn't he try to understand me, why is he just like the rest of them? Why won’t he kill me or use me to make his hope shine brighter? But then, I wondered… what if he actually accepts me? What if he returns my feelings? Do I want that? Love will get in the way of hope, now won’t it? It doesn’t always hurt to stay quiet! Because do you see what happens? Betrayal. Total and complete betrayal. It really hurts, you know? It’s like a stab in the back. You’re not worth anything, Hinata. “ the aforementioned boy stills beneath him. Komaeda can’t even feel him breathing, thinks that he might as well be dying - hah, so what if he is - and leans down to mournfully kiss Hinata's back, feels the brunet’s muscles tensing due to the unexpected touch. “You know, if this were any other timeline, or perhaps some different situation, then maybe… No, what is it that I'm saying!? I would never _ever_ fall in love with someone as plain as you!” Komaeda lets out a mirthless laugh which makes Hinata tense even further. What was he thinking? Him? Liking Hinata? Never again. Never. Komaeda then forces Hinata to flip over so that he can look at him properly, eager to confirm his dying feelings. The boy drapes one forearm over his eyes but doesn’t move.

 

Hinata lies there like some expensive china only, made to be looked at and certainly not to be touched. Komaeda has always stared at it in awe, too afraid to reach out and caress it, thinking that it might break and the shards will surely stick in his palm, make him bleed, hurt him, but now… Now he can touch as much as he pleases.

 

He's only disappointed to discover that he doesn't not feel anything for him.

 

“Lies pile up, Hinata,” he whispers, tracing lazy patterns on the Hinata’s chest. “They grow and grow until you find yourself drowning in them.”

 

“I swear, I didn’t know!” he rasps out while Komaeda smiles, the quirk of his chapped lips unsettling as always. Finally, he's saying something - it was beginning to get a bit boring. Hinata still refuses to meet Komaeda's probing gaze. They've long since lost the warmth that he remembers - there’s only hatred left behind. “I didn’t know. I swear, I've never noticed.”

 

_"How pathetic. And here I was, foolish enough to actually believe you."_

 

“I don’t need your excuses. I don’t really care anymore. Save them for people like Nanami and the rest. I can’t speak for them, but they're making a huge mistake by placing their trust in you. But one day…” Komaeda kisses the corner of Hinata’s mouth because he doesn’t deserve to be kissed on the lips. He slips his fingers down and swiftly unbuttons his white shirt.  “They will realize. I may not be there to witness it, but I can only hope that eventually they'll see the errors of their ways.”  He parts the shirt and can’t help but appreciate the boy’s exposed stomach, his rapidly heaving chest, and the moment Komaeda places his palm where the other boy’s heart beats wildly, Hinata moves his forearm, hazel eyes glaring at him in warning.

 

“Don’t touch me. Get the hell out, I don’t want to see you right now.”

 

Feisty. Well, whatever, a challenge was always pleasant. He never actually expected Hinata to go down without a fight. “Was that an order?” Komaeda asks, voice cold. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

 

“Fuck off, Komaeda,” the brown-haired teen growls and extends his arms to push the other away, but Komaeda predicts it, and ends up snatching his wrists in a steel-like grip.

 

“My apologies, I didn’t quite catch that,” he grins as Hinata starts trashing about, legs uselessly kicking at the air and toes curling into the sheets. Komaeda’s face flushes just the slightest bit.

 

Does he think this is a fucking game?

 

“I told you to let go. I'm giving you a chance to let you go or I will make you.” Hinata leans in to threaten him, a storm brewing in his glare. He's serious. Komaeda knows that they won't be going over this without serious bruising.

 

“Go ahead.” Komaeda mocks one last time and a true brawl starts. Hinata - with much effort, of course, because Komaeda is no pushover - manages to get one of his legs free and digs his heel into Komaeda’s side in order to knock him off, but doesn’t succeed. There’s going to be a nasty bruise right above his hip, though, and that brings Hinata at least some level of satisfaction. Hinata tries to shake him off, bucks his hips, tugs at his wrists, but the other is a lot stronger than he looks despite being skinnier than a twig, and it doesn’t take long before Hinata tires himself out. Komaeda holds him down much like he's had before. Hinata feels the obvious line of the Komaeda’s arousal against his ass - who's enjoying this now, huh? What a sick fuck, Hinata scowls -  and tries to lower his hips, but the white-haired teen catches on pretty fast and slowly grinds against Hinata as if to spite him.

 

“You’re disgusting.” Hinata spits yet he doesn't need to look to know that Komaeda’s smirking, obviously pleased.

 

“All your doing. You better take responsibility now.”

 

“Like hell!”

 

“You’re in no position to tell me that.” he slides his fingers into the belt loops of Hinata’s pants, tugging down and exposing him. Hinata flinches, fisting the bed sheets.

 

“So you’re going to have your way with someone who doesn’t want it. Is that it?” he asks, wary, though he feels that he already knows the answer to that.

 

“Hmm, well… It’s more like I'm taking what was supposed to belong to me in the first place. Plus it’s not like you’re not enjoying yourself either, you know.” Komaeda hums and brings his hand to Hinata’s rapidly hardening length. Of course he’s getting hard, aren't they supposed to be the same? He swipes a thumb over the head, waits for a desired reaction but then lets go completely. “I'm not going to touch you, though. I don’t think that you deserve me pleasing you; I'm not doing this for you. Maybe if you beg.”

 

“Never.”

 

“Suit yourself then.”

 

Ahh, maybe this really is love? It hurts. It hurts like love is supposed to hurt. It stabs at your heart until you can’t handle it anymore.

 

He pushes his fingers into the back pocket of his jeans, searching for the small vial of cooking oil that he'd scouted out right before paying Hinata a warm visit - he’s not cruel enough to hurt Hinata like this, even though he is undeserving. He doesn’t know why he feels this way. To him, Hinata is a traitor, but it's still hard to brush him off completely. And why? Why is it so when Hinata was the one always doing it? Why can’t he simply repay him? Why can’t he let Hinata get a taste of his own medicine?

 

Komaeda’s not lonely. He’s really not. He just prefers solitude, always has.

 

He doesn’t spare too much time preparing Hinata - he needs it to hurt, he needs Hinata to feel at least a fraction of what he feels. He wants to force Hinata to drown in this… it's not quite despair, despair is something that should never be near Komaeda, but. Desperation must be the right word. Disbelief. Oh no, he’s getting sentimental.

 

The sounds that brunet makes are not beautiful at all, they grate against Komaeda’s ears. He’s hurting Hinata, the person who was his beloved Hinata-kun. He’s warm and tight around him, so fucking tight that Komaeda doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do this.

 

“Stop, fuck, just stop…”

 

“Shut up.” he orders in a dull voice and grabs the back of Hinata's neck, holding him in place. “I don’t want to hear your voice.”

 

He won’t ever get it right, will he?

 

Hinata’s thigh trembles against his palm and he buries himself into that searing heat and watches Hinata strain, watches him break apart. This is how it's supposed to be, this is what he gets for falling into this trap. Hinata has one arm stretched out above his head, fingers curled into the white sheets and his other one is busy pounding at the mattress, various profanities escaping him. He orders Komaeda to stop but it falls on deaf ears and the white-haired teen lets go of Hinata’s neck in favor of fucking into him as fast as he can. He does not want to do any favors, he does not want Hinata to feel good, he doesn’t want to feel good either. It’s the last time they're doing this.

 

“Komaeda… nhh!” Hinata calls out and he really shouldn’t be doing this - Hinata should be calling him everything but his last name. Hinata twists around his upper body in a way that makes the white-haired teen wince because Hinata sure as hell will be hurting after this, but the other is too gone to care - he’s actually enjoying this in some sick and twisted way, it's obvious. He’s half-lying on his right side, eyes zeroing in on Komaeda, and the latter can’t bear to look away, wants Hinata to look somewhere else, anywhere. He doesn't want to show Hinata the vulnerable face that he’s currently making, as though they're making love instead of fucking in the most raw fashion, so he moves his hands to the brown-haired teen’s neck and squeezes down just a little bit. Once he does, Komaeda feels him tighten around him.

 

“D-Does this excite you or something.” Komaeda manages to get out and bites at his lower lip. The pressure is far too much. He gets some sort of garbled response that he can’t understand, grip tightening to the point Hinata’s eyes start to bulge and roll up to the back of his head. He's no longer inhaling, shit, he isn't -

 

Fear twinges in his heart and Komaeda moves his hands so that Hinata can take in big gulps of air as he coughs. His watering eyes crack open just the slightest bit and he’s greeted with Komaeda’s worried face and the corners of Hinata’s lips turn upward. “H-hey, Komaeda…” he begins, but the white-haired teen only looks down, his arms trembling.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“You know… if this really were any other situation, if we'd met under d-different circumstances…” Hinata mournfully continues, rubbing at the column of his bruised neck, hissing slightly when he probes too much.

 

“I said shut up!” Komaeda yells and his face contorts with a mixture of sadness and anger.

 

Hinata pities him. He really does.

 

“Maybe I would have returned your feelings - ngh!“ Komaeda slams into him with as much force as he can, breathing uneven and loud against Hinata’s ears. “Fuck, I—I would have - shit,  _don’t stop_.”

 

“I don’t need to hear it.” Komaeda cries out, tears blurring his vision, and Hinata feels something wet slide down his shoulder. “It’s fine as it is. I don’t want to hear this from some lowly piece of trash. I - “

 

It doesn’t take long for him to lose it. It’s not as fulfilling as he would have initially thought, it just leaves him empty. And if this is truly love, then he would much rather spend the remainder of his short life alone. He'd never wanted to feel it and it’s better to just forget it. He and Hinata, they are two sides of the same coin and those two sides can never face each other.

 

If this is love, then he would much rather pretend that they are strangers. They don’t need any what ifs, because all has been said and done. They couldn’t make it right no matter what and that was it. He does not want Hinata to finish his sentence.

 

Because, in the end, some things are just better left unsaid.

 


End file.
